No Place Like Home
by Shonetta
Summary: Post-Endgame short story. Janeway is having a miserable Christmas without Chakotay, but then something unexpected happens. J/C.


_Star Trek Voyager characters are the property of Paramount Pictures._

_A J/C story I wrote over Christmas - sorry it's a bit late! :)_

**NO PLACE LIKE HOME**

CHRISTMAS EVE, 2380

Sitting on the porch swing of her old childhood home in Indiana, her auburn hair loose over a flimsy blue cardigan, Kathryn Janeway leant against the swing's ancient rope and gazed out vacantly at the white wilderness before her. It was snowing heavily, the night bitterly cold, but Kathryn was oblivious to the icy air that was freezing her thin body. Her thoughts were far away, dancing on a sandy beach in the arms of the man she loved.

Chakotay.

A year after their return to Earth, one glorious night beneath a sky full of stars, they had finally declared their feelings for each other. The time had just been right. Perfect. They had kissed under the moon, kissed like they always had in her dreams, and had promised that from now on nothing would come between them.

And for six wonderful months nothing had.

They had taken a world cruise, both long overdue a vacation, and on the spur of the moment had got married on a beautiful island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Paradise.

Truly, they had been in heaven.

But then, when they were back in the real world, a world that had never been kind to them, that heaven had soon become hell. While captaining an exploration vessel, a vessel on course to an ancient alien settlement in deep space, Chakotay and his small crew of stellar archaeologists had come under attack from unknown assailants. They had sent out a distress call, which was picked up by a Starfleet crew nearby, but by the time the crew had got there it was too late. Chakotay's ship had been blown to pieces and there were no survivors.

Admiral Paris had been the one to break the news, his face pale and taut, but until she had visited the scene herself and examined the wreckage Kathryn could not believe it.

Could not believe that Chakotay was dead.

Did not want to believe it.

Perhaps he and his officers had abandoned their ship and were taking refuge on a nearby asteroid or moon. Anything was possible. But for weeks the surrounding space was searched and no one or nothing was found.

Chakotay was dead.

Gone from her life. Extinguished in a moment like her father and fiancé.

And she wanted to die too.

Wanted to die now.

Just for a moment.

A few selfish moments when her heart ached beyond bearing for the man she still loved.

But she had to bear the pain. Had to live. Had to be strong.

Cold.

Shivering.

Getting up from the swing, Kathryn chaffed her thin arms, her fingers numb, and quickly made her way back inside. Rufus, a golden labrador that Phoebe had got her for company, came to greet his mistress, and Kathryn petted him. Usually he followed her everywhere, even onto the porch, but not even his loyalty would lead him there on a night like tonight. No, he would stay before the fire where it was warm and dry.

The fire.

It was almost out.

Picking up a few logs, Kathryn rekindled it, and then went to replicate herself a coffee. She was still cold, though warming, and needed the black beverage that was comforting as well as fueling. Now that his mistress was in, Rufus returned to the fire, curling up before it on a red rug that was over a hundred years old, and from there watched with a lazy eye as Kathryn left the replicator. However, as Kathryn made her way over to the couch, a sudden flash of green on a bookcase caught her attention. Turning towards the bookcase, which had a number of shelves, Kathryn surveyed it.

Nothing.

The flash must have been a reflection of her Christmas tree lights. The tree was right opposite the bookcase, occupying a vacant corner next to a bay window that looked out at the bleak winter's night, and was adorned with glittering baubles, tinsel, and twinkling fairy lights of rainbow colors. Beneath the tree was a pile of presents, mostly from family and friends, and topping it was a silver star.

As she looked at the bookcase, Kathryn's eyes were drawn to an old photo album of hers. It had a green velvet cover, the same shade as the Christmas tree, and a gold spine. Most of her photo albums, like everyone else's, were digital, but this one she had kept as a child. Inside its silver pages were photos and mementos from her girlhood, souvenirs of a golden time that she had not looked at in years.

She would look at it now.

Resolved, Kathryn put down her coffee, went over to the bookcase, and carefully removed the album. It was in good condition, for such an old book, and smelt of her mother's favorite fragrance. Many things in the house did. And, every time she smelt it, Kathryn felt comforted, as though her mother was still with her. For Gretchen Janeway had died a few weeks after Voyager's return. She had been unwell for a long time, as Kathryn had learnt from her sister on Voyager, but had clung on to life in the hope of seeing her daughter again. When that hope was fulfilled, and her heart was at peace, she had finally slipped away. Kathryn was glad her mother's suffering was over, but saying goodbye so soon after their reunion had been hard. To distract herself from the grief, she had poured all her energy into renovating her childhood home. The old Janeway farmstead had passed to her on her mother's death, as Phoebe already had a home in Georgia where she lived with her husband and toddler son, and it was in a bad state of disrepair. For the last five years of her life, Gretchen had lived in a retirement complex, and no one had taken care of the house. The roof was leaking, several windows were broken, the decor was shabby, and the garden overgrown. Kathryn had made all necessary repairs, tidied the garden, and redecorated the house from top to bottom. Now it was as fine as it ever had been. And it had always been a fine house. It would have been a shame for it to fall into irredeemable decay or, had she not wanted it, for it to pass out of the family. It had belonged to the Janeway's, and their ancestors, for over two hundred years.

Opening the album, Kathryn curled up on the couch and began to look through it. She turned the pages slowly, taking her time to look at the pictures and relive the captured moments of yesteryear, and every now and then a memory made her smile. The little Kathryn in the pictures, chubby with wild red hair that fizzed over her shoulders, sure had an attitude and yet a sweetness of smile that redeemed her. In more than one picture she had braids, braids and missing teeth, and no matter how fine her outfit, she never seemed to look tidy. Her clothes were always dishevelled and her hair wild. Phoebe, on the other hand, always looked like a little lady. Her black hair, though curly, was never out of place, and her clothes were always pristine. But then, Phoebe had never been a tomboy. She had liked playing with dolls or painting pictures with an apron on. Such unadventurous activities had always bored Kathryn. Her idea of fun had been climbing trees or wading in pools to collect tadpoles.

Turning yet another page, Kathryn arrived on Christmas 2343. It had been a snowy one, just like every Christmas before and after, and in the first picture her eight year-old self was standing beside a tall Christmas tree that was aglow with lights. A Christmas tree that was almost identical to the one now gracing the room. It was the exact same height, the exact same style, and in the exact same place. The only difference was the baubles. The ones in the picture were gold and silver whereas the present ones were gold and red. The tree even had the same sparkling silver star. Her father had brought it home when she was just three years old, an event she could vaguely recall, and it had graced every Christmas tree in this room since. If only it could talk. Then it could share memories with her. Memories of love and laughter, of cookies left for Santa and excited little fingers tearing open presents. In the next picture, Kathryn was standing before the hearth, a roaring fire behind her. It was the year she'd been playing Dorothy in her school's production of_ The Wizard Of Oz_, and it was as Dorothy she was pictured. Her braided hair was tied with a ribbon, a blue one that matched the blue on her checkered dress, and at her feet was her beloved dog, Paige. The scruffy little terrier was playing Toto, even though she was a girl, and by her antics had made the audience cry with laughter. Instead of walking dutifully by Dorothy's side, she had waged war against Aunty Em's skirt, chased the Munchkins around the stage, bitten off the scarecrow's fake nose, sunk her teeth into the lion's tail, and ran off with the Wicked Witch's hat. Needless to say, she was the star of the night, but gave the principal, Mrs Jacobs, such a headache that she declared they would never again use a real live animal in any production. Kathryn laughed as she remembered that night, took out the photo so she could copy it and frame it, and then looked at the rest. Amongst them were a few mementos of the night...the ribbons in her hair, a square patch from her dress, the stub of her parents concert ticket, and a green gemstone. It was round, flat, and glittered through the thin plastic covering it. For a moment, Kathryn studied it curiously, as she couldn't remember who or where she had got it from, but then she recollected. An old woman from the audience had given it to her.

"This is for you, my dear," she had said. "Keep it safe. One day, many days from now, it will make a special wish come true."

Kathryn had smiled, and thanked the woman, but even at eight years of age she had not believed in magic stones that could grant wishes. The only reason she had kept it was because it was so beautiful. Light danced across it like a thousand rainbows and it glowed in the dark.

Carefully, Kathryn lifted the gem out of its holding place and looked at it more closely. It truly was magnificent. As clear as crystal and as green as emerald. But what it was she had never known. Her tricorder, and that of her father's, had failed to identify it. The conclusion, therefore, was alien. An unknown stone from an unknown planet. But over three decades had passed since she and her father had analyzed it and many new stones had been discovered since. Perhaps a modern tricorder would be able to identify it. Holding to this thought, Kathryn got to her feet, picked up her tricorder, and scanned it.

No luck.

The stone was still unidentifiable. A little disappointed, but not overly, Kathryn put down the tricorder and then picked up her forgotten coffee. It was cool now, intolerably so, so she quickly recycled it and replicated another. Then, with the stone still in her hand, she stood before the window to drink it. The snow was falling heavier now, the wind blowing harder. Soon it would be a blizzard.

A blizzard.

A walk of death.

A walk she had once made from this very house in the hope of numbing the pain in her heart forever. But the cry of a helpless animal had saved her. Petunia's cry. A poor little puppy abandoned in the snow. By taking the creature home, and nursing it back to health, she had found a reason for living. And she had a reason now. But oh, how her heart ached. Ached for Chakotay. Ached for the life they had planned. A life together in this house. Now, like so many other plans, they were just yesterday's dreams. Dreams that would never come true. Not in this lifetime, not in this reality.

But how she wished things were different.

How she wished Chakotay was alive and on his way home. Home for Christmas. He'd promised he would be. Even though his people didn't celebrate, he knew how much it would mean to her.

Their first Christmas together.

Never to be.

But to have him at her side, back in her life, she would gladly forego Christmas forever. She missed him so much. Missed his gentle strength and quiet wisdom. Missed his smile, his laughter, his touch, and his voice. Her world was silent without him. Silent and empty.

And then...

And then she felt a tingling sensation in her hand. The one that was holding the gem. Instinctively, she opened her hand, uncurling her fingers that were covering the stone, and to her surprise she saw that the gem was glowing. Glowing brighter than it did in the dark. Glowing and glittering. And then...

And then the light was gone.

The gem was just a gem again.

Thinking she must have imagined it, or that the stone, like the books, had just reflected the Christmas tree lights, Kathryn dismissed the incident and returned to the couch. After putting the gem back into its holding place, she drank what was left of her coffee and looked through the rest of the album. By now it was almost ten o'clock and Kathryn was sleepy. Casting the album aside, she curled up on the couch and let herself drift to sleep to the lullaby of the rising wind.

A rapping.

A rapping on her front door woke her.

It sounded far away at first, distant like in a dream, but then it got louder and louder. Sitting up, Kathryn rubbed her sleepy eyes and addressed the computer.

"Computer, who's there?"

But the computer made no reply. And, as her waking eyes looked around, Kathryn became aware of a strange green glow in the room. It was faint, almost invisible, but was coming from the hallway. Feeling as though she was dreaming, for everything was eerily surreal, Kathryn got to her feet and made her way to the hallway. The glow got brighter, dazzlingly so, and was emanating from the front door. Kathryn walked towards the door, every instinct pulling her, and then...

And then she was opening the door.

As she did, a fierce wind swirled before her, a wind that was glowing green. But then, as her eyes adjusted to the glare, she saw that there was a man in its midst. A man that was solidifying.

Chakotay.

She knew it from his stance, from the outline of his muscular body, and from the comforting feel of his presence. Instinctively, almost desperately, she reached out her hands, longing to take his and pull him from the abyss into her dreamworld, and his hands reached back. Reached and clutched hers tight.

And then...

And then the wind and the light disappeared.

But not Chakotay.

He was standing before her, standing in uniform on her porch, and his hands were holding hers.

"Oh, Chakotay," Kathryn said tearfully. "Is it really you? I feel wide awake and yet know I must be dreaming."

"It's really me," he replied. "You're not dreaming."

"But I have to be. You're...you're dead."

"No. Aliens from another galaxy rescued us from our ship before it exploded. We're all alive."

A tear ran down Kathryn's cheek. "But you can't be...I'm just imagining all this because I want it to be true."

Chakotay put his hand to her face. "You're not, Kathryn. I'm really here. I swear to you."

He felt real. Oh God, he felt so real. But he couldn't be. Even as he took her in his arms and held her tight she couldn't believe it. He was dead. Gone forever. This was just a dream. A cruel, yet beautiful dream.

"I'm home," he whispered. "For Christmas. Just as I promised I would be."

Home for Christmas.

Definitely a dream. But she would cherish it. Cherish it like she cherished the man she clung to.

"Yes," she said, finally drawing away and putting her hand to his cheek. "You're home. My Chakotay. My brave warrior."

Chakotay took her hand and kissed it. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you. Every moment of every day. Without you I'm... I need you. I need you in my life."

"And you have me, Kathryn. I'm not leaving again. From now on I work on the ground. And before you say it, I know that means giving up what I love, but I love you more and..."

Kathryn silenced him with a finger on his lips.

"I wasn't going to say it. I don't want you to leave. Not ever."

And then they were kissing.

Kissing like they never had before.

Making love.

Making love in their bed.

And then...

And then they were lying in each other's arms, a satin duvet over them.

"You mean everything to me, Kathryn," Chakotay said, kissing her damp hair. "All I've wanted these last few months is to get home to you. It seemed impossible, and there were times I thought I'd never see you again, but I wanted to get home more than I ever did on Voyager. Then I didn't really have a reason. Now I have a million."

Kathryn said nothing. There was nothing to say. Chakotay's words were just a figment of her imagination. They weren't real. Neither was his touch and kiss.

Just a dream.

More real than most, but still just a dream.

A yearning of her heart.

An ache that was suddenly hurting.

An unbearable pain that made her cry.

But still she did not wake. Did not wake like she had a hundred times before to a cold and empty bed. Chakotay was still holding her. Holding her and saying he was sorry for what she'd been through, for all the pain and grief.

"That's not why I'm crying," Kathryn told him, her head on his chest. "I'm crying because this isn't real. Any moment now I'll wake up and...and I don't want to. I don't want to live without you."

At these words, Chakotay's caressing hands stilled. Then he gently drew her away from him so he could look at her.

"What are you saying, Kathryn? That you still think this is a dream?"

"No," she replied. "I know it is. And I can't bear it. I can't bear to wake again to find you gone."

Chakotay put his hand to her cheek. "That won't happen, my darling. I'm really here. I'm really home. Just tell me how to convince you."

"You can't. Yes, this feels real...you feel real...but we hardly ever know we're dreaming when we are. You're dead and somehow, someway, I've got to accept that."

"I'm not dead, Kathryn. I told you that aliens..."

"Rescued you before your ship blew up. But I don't believe it. It's just my wishful thinking. Wish being the word. Because for you to be here, somehow carried on the wind, it would have to mean the stone granted my wish. But that's impossible."

"What stone?"

Kathryn pulled away. "You know what stone because you're nothing but a figment of my imagination."

"I don't know. Tell me."

"No. I'm not going to indulge this fantasy any longer. I want to wake up."

But still she didn't. Still she kept on dreaming.

"This stone," Chakotay said calmly, "is it green and round?"

"Yes," Kathryn answered. "But you know that. You know an old woman gave it to me as a child and told me to keep it safe as one day it would make a dear wish come true. But I didn't believe her then and I don't believe her now. You're not here because I wished you were and the stone granted it. You're here because I'm dreaming you're here."

"I'm here because of a teleport," he said matter of factly. "The aliens who rescued us didn't do so for our sakes. They did it for their own. They were a rival gang to the ones who attacked us and wanted to sell us as slaves or lab rats. When they got us to their galaxy, they did just that, but luckily for us the ones who bought us were a law enforcement crew. They arrested our captors and returned us to our galaxy. However, they like to keep to themselves, neither sharing their technology or making contact with other races, so they wanted to transport us home in secret. This should have been easy, as they have very sophisticated teleport technology that can not only transport a person over vast distances but also through time, but they could not penetrate Earth's security shield, at least not without being detected. We told them to transport us somewhere else, there were a lot of options, but their commission was to transport us to Earth and they would not defy it. So they came up with a plan. They would, using a temporal transport, send one of their officers to a time in Earth's history when the shield wasn't as advanced and leave behind a teleport beacon. While small, it's homing signal is so powerful that it can, providing it's inside the security zone, adapt to any security barrier and penetrate it undetected. This adaptation process can take hours or days, even weeks, but when it has been sent to the past it can usually be relied on to have adapted by the time it's needed in the present. Sure enough, the plan worked, and we were all beamed directly home. I'm guessing the stone you speak of is the beacon, and the old woman the disguised officer who took it to Earth, promising us that it was in safekeeping and would survive the passage of the years."

Fresh tears filled Kathryn's eyes. Could it be true? Could Chakotay really be alive and home? Could the stone have granted her wish but not in the magical way she had thought? Or had her mind concocted this story to protect her from the truth? This wouldn't be the first dream in which he lived. And yet...and yet she couldn't let herself believe it. Even though her heart ached to, she couldn't. To do so, but then to wake, would be to break it all over again.

Then Chakotay's hands were holding hers. "I'm home, Kathryn. I truly am."

Their eyes locked and a tear ran down Kathryn's cheek. "I want to believe it, Chakotay. I want to with my whole heart. But I'm afraid of letting myself."

"I understand. But ask yourself this. Do you really feel like you're dreaming? Because deep inside we know the difference."

"We do. And no, I don't feel like I'm dreaming. No dream has ever felt as real. But could it really be true? Could the stone really be a beacon and you here because of it?"

"There's only one way to find out. And that's to see if it's still here. Because Denvingo, the woman alien in charge of returning us, said they would retrieve the beacon after transporting us."

"I see. Well, it should be in the lounge, back in the photo album I kept it in. I'll go get it."

With that, she got out of the bed and put on her robe, which was blue and silky.

"If you replicate me a robe," Chakotay said, "I'll come with you."

"No need," Kathryn replied, going over to a silver closet. "I still have your black one. I couldn't bear to recycle it."

Reaching the closet, she opened the door, pulled out his robe, and then tenderly fingered it, touching it like she had a million times since his supposed death. But then, remembering that he...or a vision of him...was behind her, she turned around and threw it to him.

"All yours."

Chakotay caught it, his eyes moist, and then put it on. It fitted him perfectly, just like before, as he hadn't lost any weight. He was just as strong and muscular as ever. And that gave Kathryn pause for thought.

"What is it?" Chakotay asked as he turned to her and saw her sad gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kathryn replied. "And that's what's wrong. If you were really back after what you say you've been through...weeks of imprisonment by aliens...you wouldn't look exactly like you did when you left."

Chakotay closed the gap between them and put his hand on her shoulder. "Our imprisonment wasn't a harsh one. We had a deck to ourselves, every comfort, and plenty of food. To get the best price for us, we had to be fit and healthy."

Another perfectly reasonable explanation. And yet there was still doubt.

"My greatest torment was being away from you," Chakotay went on. "No physical pain could hurt as much."

He then drew her close, hugging her the way he'd always hugged her, and all Kathryn could do was hold onto him. Hold on to his memory.

Then they were leaving the bedroom and heading for the lounge. Rufus was still there, sleeping before the fire, and he looked up groggily to see who was there.

"Good guard dog," Chakotay teased.

"Isn't he just," Kathryn smiled. "But I'm sure he was in his heyday. He's an old fella now, partially deaf and blind in one eye. But he's good company and still displays some spunk now and then...especially when there's food around."

Chakotay laughed softly, and then Kathryn picked up the photo album, which was still on the coffee table where she'd left it.

"Well," Chakotay asked as she opened it, "is the stone there?"

Kathryn turned to the page, almost hesitantly as she wasn't sure she wanted the answer, but she got it soon enough.

The stone was gone.

"You're right," she said. "It's gone. Unless..." She quickly looked around to see if it had fallen out of the album and was on the floor, couch or table. But it wasn't. There was no sign of it. "No...not that I can see. But I'll scan for it, just to make sure."

With that, she put down the album, picked up her tricorder, and scanned the room.

Nothing.

No gem. Not even a record of it on her tricorder.

Then, just as she was about to speak, the computer bleeped.

"Incoming messages have surpassed one hundred."

Chakotay smiled. "I guess word is out on our return."

Return.

Home.

It had to be true. Chakotay had to be alive.

Alive and home.

Not dreaming.

Awake and living.

And then...

And then she was hugging him. Hugging him, laughing and crying.

"I take it you believe me now," Chakotay smiled, holding her in return.

"Yes," she wept. "Oh Chakotay..."

The computer spoke again. "Incoming messages have now surpassed two hundred."

"Shall we prioritize and listen?" Chakotay asked.

"No," Kathryn replied, drawing away to look at him. "Not yet. There's something...someone...you need to meet. Wait here."

With that, Kathryn left the room. But she was not gone long. In no time at all, she was back. Back with a bundle in her arms.

A baby.

"Chakotay," she said proudly, "meet your daughter."

For a long moment Chakotay said and did nothing, he just gazed at the sleeping baby who had rosy cheeks and a mop of fluffy black hair, but then he looked up, happy tears in his eyes.

"Now I'm the one who has to be dreaming."

Kathryn laughed and closed the gap between them. "I found out I was having her a few weeks after you left. I couldn't believe it. I thought it was too late for us. But it wasn't and...and here she is."

Chakotay tenderly brushed a finger against her tiny cheek. "She's a miracle," he whispered. "Our miracle."

"I called her Ava," Kathryn told him. "Ava Gretchen Enola Janeway."

A tear ran down Chakotay's cheek. Enola was his mother's name.

"I planned on flying out to you to tell you I was pregnant," Kathryn said, "but before I could get the time off, Admiral Paris told me that...I'm sorry. I should have sent you a message."

"No," Chakotay replied. "You did the right thing. I'd have wanted to be told in person." He smiled, his eyes still on the baby. "She's beautiful...truly beautiful."

"I think so too...even if she does keep me up half the night."

"A crier?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. But if it wasn't for her I...I don't know how I'd have got through the last few months. When I thought you were dead, I...I didn't want to live anymore. But she gave me a reason to."

Chakotay looked up now and put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Kathryn. I'm truly sorry for what you've been through and...and for not being here. I'd have given anything to be."

"I know, Chakotay. None of what happened is your fault. But I'm glad you're here now. We can finally be a family and...and I'm starting to think I'm dreaming again."

Chakotay smiled. "If we are, let's never stop."

Kathryn smiled back. "Amen." She then held out the baby. "Want to hold her?"

Chakotay nodded and took the precious child in his arms.

"Hello, Ava," he said, kissing her and cradling her close. "I'm your daddy. And I promise I'm going to love you and take care of you always."

Behind them, an old grandfather clock chimed, tolling the midnight hour, and Kathryn turned to it. All her life it had stood in the same place, ticking the years away, and held as many memories as the house. One of them came back to her now, one that belonged to the same Christmas night of so long ago when she'd played Dorothy.

"You know," she said, turning back to Chakotay, "it's strange how the universe plays out. The night the old woman gave me the stone, I was playing Dorothy in our school's production of _The Wizard of Oz_. Daddy was home that year, usually he wasn't, and he came to see me. I was so proud, especially as Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Martha were there too. It was late when we got home, almost midnight, and I remember standing before this grandfather clock counting down the chimes to Christmas Day. When the last one struck, I raced over to the Christmas tree, thinking I could open the presents there as it was Christmas Day, but Daddy grabbed me and swung me into the air saying it wasn't time yet. When I didn't argue back, as I guess most eight year olds would have done, Grandpa was very impressed and said Santa might just leave me an extra present for being such a good girl. I looked him straight in the eye, my hair still in braids, and told him I didn't need an extra present as having my Daddy home was the best one ever. He teared up at that, so did Daddy, and I felt like I'd said something wrong. But Daddy lifted me into his arms again, kissed me, and said he would try to be home every Christmas from then on. 'Because, goldenbird,' he said, 'as Dorothy says, there's no place like home.'"

Chakotay's hand was on her shoulder again, his touch as tender as his gaze. "Did he keep his word?"

"Yes," Kathryn replied. "At least for a few Christmases. But as I stood on that stage that night, clicking my heels together and saying "there's no place like home", little did I know how true those words would become for me. And yet, I'll confess, there have been times over the last few months I've wished we weren't home. I've wished we were still in the Delta Quadrant, our little lady too, conceived in some out of time experience. Because then, at least, we'd all be together." She looked deep into Chakotay's eyes, happy tears in her own. "But tonight I can say it and mean it with my whole heart. There truly is no place like home."

Chakotay smiled, sharing the sentiment, and then they kissed softly before gazing again at their daughter.

**THE END**


End file.
